Page 24 of The Hood and his Thief

“Funny, these knots seem rather intentional.” Rhosyn tugged on her wrists for emphasis.

A furrow formed between Ansel’s brows. “You know that isn’t what I meant.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you would need to resort to drugging and kidnapping to lure a woman into your bed.” The words popped out before Rhosyn could think better of them or realize that she wasn’t in the best situation to be taunting her captor.

Ansel pursed his lips. “It’s not my bed.”

“Well, if this isn’t a social call, would you care to enlighten me on where I am?”

“You know who I am,” Ansel pointed out. “You were going to arrest me.”

Rhosyn huffed. “Assaulting and kidnapping an officer of the Royal Police is a criminal offense too, in case you didn’t know.”

With a tired sigh, Ansel took a few steps further into the room, coming up next to the bed. At this angle, Rhosyn could finally relax her neck against the pillow and just turn her head to keep him in her line of sight.

“I am aware, but I couldn’t let you stop me. I have some important things to take care of.” Ansel didn’t meet Rhosyn’s eyes, instead reaching out to run a finger along the rope binding her. She watched as he slid one finger between the loop and her wrist, as if testing to see how tight it was. The callused pad of his finger rasped against the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. She thought of the dexterous way he twirled a knife and swallowed thickly.

“If you keep me for more than a few hours, people will realize I’m missing.” Rhosyn commented to distract herself from Ansel’s touch as he repeated the same movement on the other wrist. She tried to curl her fingers to claw at the back of his hand, but he withdrew quickly. “Chief Thorne will notice if I don’t show up for my patrol in the morning.”

“I’m afraid that ship has left the harbor.” Ansel grimaced.

Rhosyn furrowed her brow. “What do you mean? How long have I been here?”

“You’ve been out for almost twenty-four hours. I was afraid Little John accidentally killed you, although I shouldn’t be surprised that you needed the sleep—”

“It’s been a whole day?” Rhosyn cut off his conjecture and began squirming anew.

“Honestly, it seems like you should be thanking me for helping you catch up on your rest.” Ansel snorted. “With you patrolling the streets during the day and prowling on your own by dark, it’s no wonder you haven’t been sleeping.”

Rhosyn drew back her lips in a snarl at the mention of her private investigations. She certainly wasn’t going to be able to find Paul and Olivia while tied up goodness-knows where.

Ansel cocked his head at her. “You clearly don’t trust the Police’s methods if you are doing your own investigations off the books. I had hoped we would be able to come to some sort of…understanding.”

An audible growl worked its way up from the back of Rhosyn’s throat. “Don’t you dare think I’m a thief and a kidnapper like you. I am a good officer of the Royal Police, because I care about this city, and I will do whatever it takes to protect it from people like you.”

Ansel’s boots thunked heavily against the floor, a juxtaposition to his normally graceful gait, as he stumbled back like Rhosyn’s words hard been physical blows.

Rhosyn settled back on her pillows, partially satisfied that she had managed to verbally wound Ansel. Under the thin layer of vindication lay a hollowness, though. The city’s criminals looked at her and saw not somebody who was there to protect her home, but an ally. Sure, she had started life on the wrong side of the law, back when the Royal Police were rife with corruption, but now things were different. Still, a thief—and potentially a kidnapper—looked at her and saw somebody who could be corrupted.

Her glare hardened further and Ansel’s expression turned stricken.

“I see you aren’t ready to talk. Maybe you’ll change your mind after another day or two.” With that he backed out of the room. Part of Rhosyn wanted to scream and snarl and tear apart her bonds through strength of will, but she remained quiet as he left the room, not trusting her words. Her lack of judgment had gotten her into this situation, and now she needed to think.

The door thudded closed, signaling that Rhosyn was alone once more. Murmured voices told Rhosyn that Ansel’s friend had been waiting for him, but the conversation drifted away before she could catch any more words.

She turned her attention to her bonds and anything in the room that might help her, but came up blank. The grayish wooden slats of the walls stared back at her bleakly, looking like every room for rent in the lower city, and giving her no indication where she might be. Straining her ears, she thought she heard some boisterous laughter and the sounds of general merriment from the floors below.

Perhaps the ground floor held a tavern. It almost reminded her of the sounds one would hear in one of the Lion’s communal safehouses, above their gambling parlors—the ones where young Lions who outgrew the Den lived, while Rhosyn lingered behind to keep the next wave safe and fed.

It seemed counterintuitive that Ansel and his partners in crime would want to keep her in a tavern though, where it would be difficult to keep her presence a secret. Rhosyn’s brain sparked. Perhaps she was in a gang hideout, and the Hood had already made some dodgy friends who were willing to hold her hostage in exchange for a cut of whatever plot he was undertaking.

She winced as the rough ropes of her bonds chafed her skin, pulling tight in her struggles, even after Ansel had checked that they wouldn’t do her permanent harm.

Escaping would be no easy task. If she had been in shackles, she might have been able to use some of her Contessa’s lockpicking tricks, but they wouldn’t be any use on the expertly tied knots. She wished for Scarlett’s shadowy Talent to help her slip free, but she remained Talentless—something she had fervently thanked luck for during the Inquiries.

Rhosyn was left only with herself and her unfortunate tendency to punch first and ask questions after.

She tried to ask herself what Nate or Kristoff would do, but her brain unhelpfully refused to offer anything outside of an amusing image of Kristoff trying to flirt his way out of his predicament. It might not have been such a bad idea if Rhosyn hadn’t just spat a slew of insults at her captor.